


Yellow is the Color

by spikesgirl58



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-30
Updated: 2018-03-30
Packaged: 2019-04-15 01:54:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14149386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spikesgirl58/pseuds/spikesgirl58
Summary: Can I please ask for an Easter egg based on the song "yellow is the colour of my true love's hair" by Donovan ?





	Yellow is the Color

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gevr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gevr/gifts).



“Let’s see, daffodils, baby chicks, lemon drops, the sun, wheat and fire.” He let the strands of blond hair fall through his fingertips.  He was endlessly fascinated with the way it felt and reflected the light.  He truly did prefer blonds.  It was all he could do to keep from rubbing his face in it.

“Napoleon, it’s early. What are you doing?”  Illya cracked open an eye, his voice muffled by a pillow.  “Have you no sense of propriety?”  He turned his head so he could look at his partner.

“When it comes to you? Never.”  Napoleon gave Illya’s forehead a gentle kiss.  “Sapphires, the sky on a summer day, the ocean and the water just off of Corfu…”  He traced a path across an eyebrow, across a cheek and down to Illya’s mouth. 

“You are being silly.” Illya protested as he rolled over to face him, more awake now, a smile playing on his lips.  Yet, he closed his eyes in pleasure at the feeling of the fingertips against his skin.

“Possibly, but if I can’t be silly with you, then who?” Napoleon murmured. “The rolling grass of a meadow, the moss on a rock…”

Illya reached up to pull Napoleon down to him. “I never took you for a Donovan fan.”  Illya stroked the stubble on Napoleon’s chin, then kissed him fully.  As if their night of passion never happened, he felt a stirring and he sighed his pleasure in the thought of what was to come. 

“Who?” Napoleon, too, was reacting, but he was in no hurry. No hurry at all.   Today was theirs to spend as they pleased and loving Illya was just what pleased him the most.  They had so much time to make up for.

“He does a song, “Yellow is the color of my true love’s hair. Blue is the color of the sky, and so forth.  I was assuming that’s what you were talking about.”

“I don’t know anything about Donovan,” Napoleon said, holding up a basket and plopping it down on Illya’s bare stomach. “I was describing my Easter eggs to you.”

Illya braced himself up on his elbows and surveyed the delight, chocolate eggs, marshmallow chicks, and jellybeans. “My mistake.  I will be right back.”  He sat up, set the basket carefully aside and stretched, then climbed out of bed, intent upon the bathroom.  After that, he’d pull out the treasures he’d closeted away for Napoleon.  Chocolate was best when shared and he knew just who he wanted to share his with.  The thought of chocolate smearing Napoleon’s lips added additional fuel to his movements.  “Don’t go anywhere.”

“Not to worry. My wandering days are behind me.  I have everything I want.”  Behind him Illya heard Napoleon softly sing, “That's the time I love the best” and he smiled.

 


End file.
